Don't get too excited, there was no whitewater involved, nothing that required several hours in a swimming pool learning how to roll over and extract yourself without drowning, nothing to even extract yourself from. Just this orange kayak-shaped thing with a snap-in seat and a paddle. And of course, a lot of water, 4 blue herons, an osprey, a seal, a buzzard, a flock of tiny little sandpiper-looking birds, and endless seagulls.
I now consider myself practically an expert. Whee. You pull the thing up, scootch into it, wedge your feet on the rests, and paddle off! Don't do a canoe paddle, just this figure-8 sort of deal across your legs. It's very good to watch the tide so that you don't end up stranded and have to walk back up an entire bay full of mud. Also, don't be afraid to paddle across the wind; you won't tip over. As long, of course, as you make sure that it's not very windy before you take off. ;) Floating along on an out-going tide is deceptively easy; coming back will take a bit of work.
And let's put emphasis on the deception part of the whole deal. If the tide is going out, but not very fast, and the wind is ruffling the surface of the water; you could swear that the water (and you yourself) is holding perfectly still and it's the island that is moving. And when you're out farther from land, and the same thing happens - or possibly a larger gust of wind comes up in your face - no matter how hard you are paddling, it seems as if you haven't budged an inch. Look behind you and take heart though, the shore is receding. It's good to keep an eye on the shore for another reason too - come around the point into that wind, and you may think you're paddling along merrily, sure to be home in time for cocoa; but glance sideways? You ain't budging, honey. All that work was just to keep in place, better dig a little deeper, and maybe aim not quite straight into the wind.
Back to convention tomorrow.
